spruced by marlene

New week, new style column.

The time: Last week.
The place: Berlin Mitte.
The players: Me. And Me.

Me: “Notice something? Lost of people out with rucksacks.”
Me: “You mean the tourists?”
“No, the hipster girls.”
“Oh those! Just ignore them.”
“Why? I think it looks cute. See that girl over there? With the boots, the long skirt and the leather rucksack casually flung over her shoulder? Cute.”
“If she’s carrying anything more than a pack of American Spirit and a bottle of Club Mate, she’ll have a stiff neck tonight.”
“God, you’re old sometimes.”

“I’m even old enough to remember the last time I wore a rucksack. I was 15. It was a Fjällräven model that I had drawn an A for anarchy on in biro. I’m not ready for a revival of the clothes I wore in the 90s.”
“Interesting. Then how do you explain the pair of tie-dyed jeans you just bought?”
“That’s totally different!”
“Really?”
“Yes. And, anyway, you’re changing the subject. Here’s another problem with the rucksack: the number of hideous ones is too discouraging to start looking for a pretty one. It’s so much easier and more satisfying to find a different bag that’s pretty.”
“But do you remember that girl in Paris? The one with the bag made from raffia and leather?”
“Sure, she looked good. But firstly she probably found that bag for a fiver in a vintage store and I lack the talent for vintage. Secondly, she was French and French women look inexplicably good in everything. Thirdly, she was 20.”
“Your point?”
“My point is that I’m not just too old for the backpack. I’m also not cool enough.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Hang on! Now that I’m thinking about it…”

Since I can’t make up my mind, what do you say: The rucksack – yes or no?